love, hard and solid
by thir13enth
Summary: Richard and Jura have at it in their private bedroom. Not cannon, even though those are also hard and solid. Save yourself and don't read this.
**notes:** I'm sorry. Please save your souls and don't read this.

 **more notes:** This is fucking ridiculous.

 **even more notes:** Written for a challenge oh-so-graciously bestowed upon me by **dragonshost**. In her defense, I was the one that gave her the challenge first. It's posted somewhere on this glorious website. It's brilliant for what it is. I don't think I'll reach her level of grace in his fic, but I am also not one to turn down a challenge.

 **further notes:** In response to dragonshost's anon who requested to murder her if she made a Jura x Richard sequel, I save her the misery and do it myself. And so, you have this classical piece of literature here:

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I'm warning you.

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I swear to god. Don't read this.

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Fool.

* * *

Love is not difficult, Richard mused as he eyed his partner's gloriously naked cock.

But love was most definitely hard and big.

His mysteriously-unnamed-companion's weapon was big, the biggest in all of Fiore and Richard gloated proudly to himself to know that that sword was only sheathed by him.

His very low hung partner smirkly smirked at him and waved his hips seductively, and as if Richard was hypnotized, he watched his man's dick swing around in perfect cyclic ellipses, rock hard magic wand of cum swinging around in perfect cyclic ellipses as a rock hard magic wand should.

Richard found himself spellbound. But was the teasing more of a charm or more of a curse?!1? Richard pondered on this philosophically as expected of his canonical character but he had barely a second to consider the abstract before something as solid as concrete began to poke out of his own underwear.

In response to seeing Richard's manhood sprouting, his cumming machine smiled so wide, it reminded Richard of how wide he wanted to spread his own legs. Richard could even see a leaf of spinach between his mate's teeth.

"Ah, have I awoken King Chad the Third-dono," his devilishly handsome and sexy fuck toy questioned questioningly, in a statement.

"Why yes, you have awoken my King Chad the Third, right!" Richard replied. He looked up to admire the wholesomeness of his gentleman, who had twenty-three abs that were iron rock hard as hard iron rock, who had a body sculpted like he was photoshopped badly, who had a tan as if he had been born into the sun and never saw the shade, and who had eyebrows nested at the crease of his forehead like two large roaches, perfectly framing his face.

It was Jura! And what a surprise to the reader, even though the author had most definitely placed his character in the tag, thus ruining the entire fandom of this irrelentlessly horrific smut.

Richard felt him growing as wet as water down below.

"I love how geometrical you are," Jura poetically exclaimed. "You remind me of an octehedrgon."

The polygon-like man blushed as pink as his lips and began a monologue to gush similar sentiments.

"I have always loved how your head reminds me of a potato, right! It reminds me of the food that my brother Wally and I used to eat while we were living in a poor and destitute town and when we were eventually taken away by child abductors to work as slaves in the Tower of Heaven, which was run by a manipulated child, who was manipulated by another manipulated child, who both are now my guild mates, right!"

"You have grown from such terrible circumstances and your capacity to forgive is as endless as your ass. This is what I love most about you, Richard-dono," the Wizard Saint mused. "You can say I have an… _hot eye_ for you."

"Oh, Mr. Neekis, this is the beauty of love, right!" Richard confirmed. He looked meaningfully at the former Lamia Scale guild member, with a lot of meaning. "You know what I want you to do, right!"

"Actually, if I were being honest, I don't, because honestly sex isn't always as smooth as fanfiction smut writers imagine it, honestly," Jura said honestly.

"Then I will voice my prayers, right! I want to feel true freedom, right!"

"I will not deny your prayers. I hear them loud and clear!"

And so, suddenly magically and without explanation, all of Richard's clothes disappeared! Jura knelt down suddenly and sucked Richard's manhood as hard as that math homework the reader is procrastinating by reading this shit.

"Right! Right! Right!" Richard gasped, thinking of nothing better to say. "Right! My King Richard the Third, right! Yes! Your mouth is open as wide as when your mouth dropped in surprise when you were fighting Jellal during the Grand Magic Games and he knocked himself out laughing and lost the fight." He reached over to tug Jura's beard.

"I love it when you tug my beard," Jura screamed, using a synonym for the word said that didn't quite fit the actual volume and tone.

"It's love!" Richard gasped again, thinking of nothing better to gasp. "My twin princes are ready for some royal treatment now, right!"

And obliging, Jura played with his balls, scoring a goal, shooting a hoop, and tossing them over the net, making points each and every time that slowly stacked numbers on Richard's climax counter. He used his left hand to play with his right ball, and his right hand to play with his left ball, in a great act of crossed arms. His other hand stroked his wobbling rod like a cat. As for Jura's right foot, the author forgot where she last left it.

"I love your magic wand," Jura admitted, using probably the most common Harry Potter sex pun used in fanfiction.

"My magic wand is nothing in quality compared to yours, right!" Richard complimented.

"The quality of magic itself is immaterial," Jura quoted. "He who has the stronger conviction will always prevail."

"It's love, right!" Richard agreed. "I love it when you talk awkward to me, right!"

"Lay down for me, my dear-dono," the earth mage commanded. "I will now fuck you."

Richard shook his head. "No, I will not, right!"

"Why not, my sex cranberry-orange muffin-dono."

"Because _you_ can lay me down, but I cannot lay down myself, right!" Richard explained, grammatically. "I can however, _lie_ down for you. So you can ask me to do that instead, right!"

"Tomato, tomatoe, lie, lie, it doesn't matter. It sounds the same when I say it to you-dono. It means to let me stuff this gigantic piece of man meat in you."

"Of course," Richard said this seductively, and he even winked at the readers reading this terrible fic. "As long as I'm the object of that sentence, roflmao," Richard punned, both rolling onto the floor and laughing his ass open.

Jura jumped and then landed right into his target, and despite not having lube, his cock slicked all the way in. The great Wizard Saint positioned himself in a humanly impossible position, grabbing onto Richard's plump hamburger buns, and began to smash himself into his partner-dono's rear end.

The two humans rocked back and forth, and forth and back, and up and down, and down and up, and left and right, and right and left, and fire and ice, and ice and fire. They yelled their speech habits to express their great pleasure.

"Right!"

"Dono!"

"RIGHT!"

"DONO!"

The fucking was so good that Richard completely forgot the tense and person he was narrating in and I moan pleasantly, loud enough for the upstairs neighbors five floors up to hear the melody of my sweet love making. It rivals the lurid sounds from my slick wet bumhole and I shudder as his throbbing dick enters and enters and enters again and then exits but then reenters.

He is called the Iron Rock Mage of Fiore for reason, and I know that I will not be able to stand after this lustful fight in bed. He is a stallion and I am his lizard.

"What do you-dono call this thing we are doing together?" he asks me.

"It's love, right!" I chant.

"What do you-dono call me shoving my stuffing into you like a turkey?"

"It's love, right!"

"What do you-dono call it when I cum into your glory hole?"

"It's love, right!"

"I'm going to come!"

"Wow, what a coincidence, I am about to, too!" I tell him.

He squirts a shimmering rainbow of gayness and I catch his baby juice with my tongue.

We don't stop there, however. It's obvious that Jura has something on his mind to experiment me with, and I can read his mind when his lust is thick in the air like the chemistry textbook gathering dust at the corner of the author's room.

He wants to do BDSM.

I give him permission to use me.

"Right! Love me like you do, love me, love me like you do!"

Jura cackles in evil roleplay and uses his earth magic to make dirt and rock shackles.

I'm getting down and dirty, literally. My Inner Tetrahedral swoons.

And so we decide to go again as fictional men do, since fictional men apparently more stamina than a wooly mammoth escaping the ice age, even after cumming five times. But first, Jura asks me—

"What's our safe word, love-dono?"

I think hard before replying, "Makarov."

"Makarov?" Jura asks me quizzedly.

"Yes," I confirm.

"I guess that will be a name that you will never actually scream while you're in ecstasy," Jura agrees.

I smile, a coy smile on my smile.

Well. I can dream, can't I?

* * *

 **What Have I Done.**

thir13enth


End file.
